Lex Talionis
by E.Helena
Summary: After months of no leads and a 'back burner' approach to the investigation surrounding two hanging murders in Central Park, a potential break appears in a very surprising location.  Sequel to 'Vengeance.'  BAish
1. Chapter 1

Title: **Lex Talionis**

Author: E.Helena

Summary: After months of no leads and a 'back burner' approach to the investigation surrounding two hanging murders in Central Park, a potential break appears in a very surprising location. Sequel to 'Vengeance.'

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Dick Wolf, René Balcer and the actors who bring them to life. No harm intended, no money made.

Archive: Fanfiction - anywhere else, just ask

Feedback: Please! Encouragement and constructive criticism are always welcome.

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**Lex Talionis** – Chapter 1

_Saw this luscious little frame I ain't lyin' fellas she was fine  
The sweet young miss go gave me a kiss and I knew that she was mine  
Took her to the limousine still parked outside  
I tipped the chauffeur when it was over and I gave her my own ride  
Couldn't get her off my jack she was like static cling  
But that's what happens when body start slappin' from doin' the wild thing_

_Wild thing  
She wanna do the wild thi-…_

Alex reached out, slapped the snooze button, and rolled onto her opposite side with a soft moan. Sighing deeply, she drifted back to the outer edges of slumber. But the fraying threads of her erotic dream began to re-weave and she impatiently flopped to her previous position, punching her pillow once for good measure. Relaxing into the twilight of almost-sleep, the traffic noise from the street below morphed into the engine hum of the impossibly large limousine of her dream. Soothed by the monotonous sound, she melted back to the shadowy, warm lips working the sensitive spot behind her left ear. A whiskery jaw ghosted the soft skin of her throat. Phantom hands gripped her hips while her legs straddled firm thighs…

With a gasp, Alex snapped awake. Irritably, she kicked off her blankets before her mind and body could lure her into finishing her dream. '_Thanks, _Tone-Loc_, for planting those images of Bobby in my head_,' she mentally grumbled while vowing to find that CD in her car and snap it in half.

Making her way to the kitchen, Alex silently offered up a sincere thank you to whoever had the inspiration to add an automatic timer to coffee makers. The rich scent of fresh brewed coffee offered hope that, with lots of caffeine, she might erase all vestiges of that dream and go on about a normal day.

The problem was that this wasn't the only dream, and all the coffee of the past few weeks had done nothing to obliterate any of the others. Alex really didn't expect this one to be any different – but she could always hope. And as she sat at her small kitchen table sipping her sweetened brew, Alex wondered when exactly it had all started. When had the occasional curious (and, yes, embarrassing) conjectures about her partner turned to full-blown fantasies? When had affection turned into lust? When had the pangs of something close to jealousy started to twist at the mere mention of his latest female interest?

_'And how the hell could you let it happen?'_

Alex jumped up from the table and emptied her mug into the sink. Coffee sure as hell wasn't going to help this. She briefly let her mind wander to the bottle of vodka at the back of her cabinet, but shook off that absurd impulse, opting instead to change into sweats and go for a short but brisk run before showering and getting ready for work.

An hour and a half later, she was striding into the eleventh floor squad room, fervently and unreasonably hoping that Bobby couldn't truly read minds as she sometimes suspected. His chair was empty but she was pretty sure he was around here somewhere. After all, other than that one time a couple of months ago, he was never late for work.

_'And don't even let your mind go wandering again down the path of surmising _why_ he was late for work. Besides, with Nicole Wallace back in town, where else would he be?'_ she thought bitterly.

Removing her jacket, Alex hung it on the back of her chair and looked around the squad room. She spotted her partner sitting in the conference room with his back to the door and, although partially blocked by his large frame, she could see that a TV and VCR had been set up in the room. Bobby seemed to have it on a freeze frame and was apparently so intent on the picture that he didn't hear her come up behind him.

"How long have you been here?"

His head swung around to look at her and she instantly recognized that gleam in his eye. Bobby had discovered something and he was dying to share it with her.

"You know those, uh… security tapes we requested? From Drew Harrington's building?"

Alex frowned at his level of excitement and nodded. She did remember requesting the tapes, but wondered when they had arrived and when he had time to view them.

"You won't believe who showed up on them."

"How long _have_ you been here?" she asked again.

Bobby looked away to leaf through his binder and pulled out an eight by ten photo. "I, uh… I came back here… last night," he answered softly.

And Alex wondered why she hadn't already suspected that. Nicole Wallace had been in fine form the night before – playacting the refined socialite before turning a haughty attitude toward Alex to get her out of the room. Once she had Bobby all to herself, Nicole was all sex appeal and innuendo, until he shut her down and forced her into what would pass as a material witness interview. Not that it yielded anything of value as far as Alex could tell.

But Bobby thought it was worthwhile and that just added fuel to Alex's already burning anger over being vaguely insulted and summarily dismissed from the 'interrogation' of Nicole Wallace (he could call it whatever he wanted). They'd argued. He stormed off. She drove home, only to be surprised later by his knock at her door. They'd worked it out (with a concern and tenderness Alex had not expected from him), and then… he'd come back here while she'd gone off to bed to dream dreams she shouldn't be having.

"Eames," his softly urgent voice brought her back from her reverie and focused her attention on the photo he held in his hand.

"Lisa Hahn." She raised her questioning eyes to Bobby who only gave her a sly smile and gestured toward the television.

"Oh my god…" she was stunned. "Can that really be Lisa Hahn?"

Bobby rose from his perch and held the photo next to the grainy image on the TV screen. "Well, it's certainly… close enough to be suspicious."

Eames took another half step toward the TV and nodded in agreement. "What's the date stamp on that tape?"

"One week before Harrington's death," Bobby had already memorized the timeline. "A little more than a week after Harrington and Nicole separated."

"We need to find her," Eames pointed at the pictures.

"Which means…" Bobby paused. After the events of the previous night, he wasn't sure what to expect of his partner. "We need to bring Nicole back in."

"Better still if we could find a reason to lock her up and keep her here." Eames and Bobby both turned at the sound of the Captain's voice. "Fill me in."

_TBC…_

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A/N – This is not where I intended this story to launch, but sometimes they just do whatever they want. I also want to note that _Lex Talionis_ will likely break this into a new series (away from the _'Sexual Kinetics'_ series, as one reader dubbed it). All bets are off as to where this will lead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Lex Talionis** – Chapter 2

"Ah. Detective Eames," Nicole greeted her as she walked into the interrogation room alone. "Has your partner abandoned us?"

Alex closed the door behind her and dropped a file folder on the table. "He's stuck in traffic," she lied without conviction. Nicole gave her a knowing smirk and let her eyes dart to the two-way mirror. They both knew exactly where Bobby was.

Alex remained standing and pulled a black-and-white still photo from the folder. Placing it on the table, she slid it across the surface toward Nicole. "Who is she?"

Nicole glanced down at the photo then slowly lifted her eyes to Alex. "What makes you think I would know?"

"This photo was taken by the security camera outside your apartment."

"My _husband's_ apartment," Nicole corrected her and gave a dismissive shrug. "She was probably an acquaintance of his."

"No, see…" Alex eased herself into the chair across from Nicole. "Your doorman distinctly remembers her. He also remembers her numerous daytime visits over the past three months. Daytime. When your husband wasn't home. But you were."

Nicole's only response was a smug smile and another glance at the mirror.

"Is she another one of your conquests?"

"Hardly," she huffed. "She's not really my type."

"Funny… I didn't realize you had a type," Alex relaxed back into her chair. "Your past choices have been so indiscriminate."

"Speaking of choices, Detective," Nicole's eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief. "I've always wondered about yours. That whole _in vitro_ thing," she waved a hand vaguely through the air. "Volunteering to put your body through all that, just for someone else's child." Nicole leaned in close across the table and lowered her voice. "You can tell me… Is that what really happened? Or did you find yourself suddenly preggers and in need of a home for the little bugger?"

Nicole's tactic was expected. Alex and Bobby had actually discussed her likely strategy before she even walked into the room. The blonde psychopath had two favorite areas of attack – Alex's pregnancy and Bobby's mother. Frankly, she was getting a little bored with it.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Nicole, since the term _selfless,_ isn't in your vocabulary."

_Bobby, time for you to get in here._

This time, the hand-off was planned. They both knew that if Nicole had anything to reveal, Bobby would be the one to get it out of her. Alex was just here to prime the pump.

"Tell me, Alex," Nicole continued in her secretive tone. "Was Bobby there for the birth? Or better yet… the conception?"

As though on cue, Alex heard the door open. Picking up her file, but leaving the photo, she stood up and leaned close to Nicole for one final parting shot. "Either way, you'll never know."

She heard Nicole's gleeful squeal behind her as Bobby held the door. Alex gave him a reassuring smile and slipped past him to join Deakins in the observation room.

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"Your partner is getting quite cheeky, Bobby," Nicole grinned at him. "You may want to take a firm hand with her. That is, if you haven't already."

Bobby scrubbed at the back of his neck with one hand while pulling a chair away from the table with the other. Seating himself, he folded his hands on the table with an air of extreme patience and sighed deeply. He looked at the photo. "Who is she, Nicole?"

"I believe you already know who she is." Her eyes never left his face.

He nodded. _Trust Nicole to turn even the simplest thing into a game of wits._ "Do _you_ know who she is?" Bobby rephrased the question.

Nicole smiled, pleased that he was playing by her rules. "Would you like me to introduce you?"

"Yes, actually. I'd like that very much."

She tsked. "Are you that unsatisfied, Bobby, that you have to resort to introductions?" Nicole gave him a sympathetic frown. "Maybe I've overestimated your relationship with your partner."

"Well.. misconstrued, certainly," Bobby tried to dismiss her suggestive banter. "Tell me her name."

"You know… all that frustration can't be good for you," she cooed with false concern. Nicole placed her hands flat on the table and slowly slid them toward Bobby's own, stopping when she was only millimeters away from touching him. Her new, forward-leaning position revealed ample cleavage at the vee of her sweater. "I _am_ a single woman now," she purred.

Bobby glared at her and suppressed a shiver of revulsion. He swung himself out of his chair, grabbed it, and shifted its position to the end of the table, close to Nicole but with the back still to the mirror. As he sat down, he spread his knees and edged the chair even closer. Her smile melted and she couldn't help but glance at his lap then coolly looked back at his eyes.

"You want to know if you do something to me, Nicole?" Bobby calmly asked in a low voice. "Do you want to find out, once and for all if… you have _any_ kind of affect on me?"

One corner of Nicole's glossed lips curled slowly and she sat perfectly still.

"Go ahead…" he encouraged softly. "Reach out a hand… find out if you have the affect you think you do."

Nicole's smile stayed in place, but he saw uncertainty flicker in her eyes. It was always good to try a new tactic with her, especially one so unexpected. Her eyes dipped once more to his lap and she swallowed deeply. When she looked back at him, her smile was gone and Bobby knew she wasn't going to do it.

He could almost hear Deakins choking on his tongue, hoping that Bobby wasn't leading them down the path of a sexual harassment lawsuit from this crazy bitch. But if he was going to get anything out of her, he had to shut Nicole down and stuff her ego back into its place. He also suspected this was a continuation of her ploy to divide him and Eames, and Bobby was getting more than a little sick of that game.

"Don't be crass, Bobby," she scolded primly. "It doesn't suit you."

"Then let's stop… all the sexual innuendo and the… seductive siren act." Bobby stood up, relieved beyond belief that she didn't actually have the nerve to touch him there. He spared a quick, apologetic glance at the mirror in the area where he thought Eames might be standing.

"Just… answer my questions. Starting with her name."

_TBC…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Lex Talionis** – Chapter 3

_"I _am_ a single woman now."_

Alex tamped down the spark of anger that wanted to bloom for the woman trying to tempt her partner. Nicole thought her sexuality could gain her anything, including Bobby Goren. Watching them now, Alex wondered how she could have ever doubted him. Last night's reassurances should never have been necessary and she promised herself she would find some way to make it up to him.

Bobby repositioned himself in the interrogation room, sitting closer to Nicole. _"You want to know if you do something to me, Nicole?"_

"What's he doing?" Deakins straightened from where he had been leaning casually against the frame of the two-way glass.

Alex shrugged, attempting to appear unconcerned while hiding the fact that her stomach just rode the first drop on the roller coaster. _What the hell _is_ he doing?_

_"Go ahead… reach out a hand…"_

"Oh my…" Deakins' face was flushing red and the veins in his neck bulged with the tension of his anger. "Get in there and stop him!"

"Wait, captain… " Alex forced a calm she didn't feel as she tried to buy time for Bobby, hoping this was nothing more than his game of chicken. Although they hadn't discussed a particular approach, Alex knew he planned to stop Nicole's game before it even got started. _Interesting choice, partner._

_"Don't be crass, Bobby…"_

The Captain blew out an audible breath of relief, but his eyes still glittered with warning when he glared at Alex.

_"Just… answer my questions. Starting with her name."_

_Bobby, you better pray this interview proves useful._

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"Lisa," Nicole tilted her head and used one perfectly manicured finger to slide the picture away from her.

"Lisa who?"

"Smith."

Bobby scowled and felt his patience wearing thin.

"What?" Nicole crossed her arms and leaned on the table. "That's what she told me. I didn't ask for her identity card."

_I suppose that's reasonable._ "What's your relationship with her?"

"Relationship is overstating it."

It seemed that Nicole was determined to be combative, every step of the way. "It was certainly… more than a casual acquaintance. She was seen entering your apartment on more than one occasion."

Nicole eased into the back of her chair. "Strictly business," she clarified with a nonchalance that made his head hurt.

"What… kind of business?" Bobby propped an elbow on the table and pressed two fingers against his temple, going for a casual pose while hoping to relieve the pressure building behind his left eye.

"My turn," Nicole frowned with impatience. "Does this have anything to do with my husband's death?"

_Good question._ A woman they've been searching for in connection with two hangings in Central Park - not to mention the murders in Pennsylvania, Vermont and Rhode Island - turns up at Nicole Wallace's door. Her final appearance occurs one week before Wallace's husband apparently commits suicide. _How could they _not_ be related?_ He gave her his best answer. "I don't know."

"Honesty," she smiled and once again relaxed. "That was always one of your best qualities, Bobby."

"So," ignoring the pseudo compliment, he opened his binder and picked up his pen. "What was the nature of your… involvement with Lisa, uh… Smith?"

Nicole glanced at the picture then looked back at him. "She came looking for me." Bobby arched an eyebrow at that. "She had a lot of questions about the New York police department."

"Why would she go to you?"

"She heard you were looking for her," Nicole leaned forward and reached out to slide the photo back toward her. She studied it a moment before continuing. "Lisa doesn't want to be found."

"Yeah… well… we already figured that out," Bobby dipped his head to catch her eye. "So why did she come to you?"

"She's done her homework, Bobby." Nicole gave him a sly smile. "Lisa is especially interested in you."

Bobby frowned and shook his head. Nicole was leading him down a path and, without a map, he was having a hard time following. "Why me?"

"You're a prominent figure in law enforcement. She wanted to know more about the man hunting her."

"'Hunting' is overstating it," he paraphrased her earlier disclaimer. "So, instead of coming here to talk with us, she… went to you with her questions."

"As I said, she's done her homework," Nicole stood up and paced a few steps while rocking her head from side to side to loosen tight muscles. "She thought I could provide an insight she might not find anywhere else."

Bobby slid his chair away from the table. Standing up, he took a wide step sideways to stay within Nicole's line of sight. "And that… _insight_… took multiple visits?"

She stopped her pacing and simpered up at him. "What can I say…" she shrugged, "she's not the most mentally organized woman I've ever met."

"Uh, mentally organized?"

"Don't you know?" Nicole's mouth opened into a wide grin as she huffed out her amusement. "I think the woman's mad. Banging on about 'avenging angels' and 'world evil.' She's actually quite tiresome."

Bobby paused to allow time for this new information to sink in. Nicole Wallace calling someone else 'mad.' He wasn't quite sure what to make of that. Stuffing his hands into his pants pockets, he stalled a few more moments before deciding to just move on, for now. "What did you tell her?"

"Apparently not enough. Which is why she kept coming back," Nicole flowed back into her chair, placed an elbow on the table and propped her head in her hand. "I certainly didn't tell her anything she could use against you. I wouldn't want to give her the same advantage I have, now would I?"

She was looking at him with her classic smirk and Bobby was beginning to wonder if he was really accomplishing anything here. Was she telling him anything useful, or was she simply batting him around like some nasty cat with its toy?

He took a halting breath and cocked his head quizzically. "You're being extremely helpful, Nicole," he said softly. "Why is that?"

Judging by her grin, Bobby was almost certain he needed to take anything she said today with a grain of salt. "There's this matter of my husband's death. The sooner that's cleared up, the sooner I can get on with my life."

"You mean, the sooner you can inherit." Bobby closed his folder and tucked it under his arm. Barring any last minute, life-changing revelations, this interview was over.

"So cynical," she pouted. Realizing that she was getting no reaction from him, Nicole stood and picked up her purse. She walked over to where he stood with one hand on the door knob and swung her purse strap onto her shoulder. "I don't inherit. Drew and I had a pre-nup. Since we've been married less than a year, all I'm entitled to is the allowance he arranged for me."

"Which is?"

"A mere $20,000 a month. After taxes." Nicole placed her hand atop his and turned them to open the door. "Hardly enough to keep a girl in a decent wardrobe."

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The Captain was walking out of the observation room just as Bobby stepped inside.

"I'm late for a meeting with the Chief, but I want an update from you two," Deakins looked from Eames to Bobby. "Be in my office in an hour. And Goren," he stopped halfway out the door to glare at him. "Don't pull another stunt like that."

Bobby shifted uncomfortably and averted his gaze to the floor before nodding. When he looked back up, the doorway was empty and he and Eames were alone in the observation room. She was grinning at him with just a little too much pleasure.

"How angry was he?"

"You don't want to know," Eames ducked past him and through the door.

He hurried a few steps to catch up to her and leaned in close so he could talk softly. "What about you?"

"Me?" she glanced over her shoulder. "I was just trying not to lose my lunch."

_TBC…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Lex Talionis** – Chapter 4

With a grin of relief, Bobby settled himself at his desk, opened his binder, and began searching through the stacks on his desktop for Lisa Hahn's folder. Peripherally, he saw Eames pick up an envelope from the center of her desk and then heard the slice of her letter opener followed by the rustle of paper.

Then silence.

After almost thirty seconds of silence, Bobby looked up at Eames and frowned with concern. She stood rooted in place, her face visibly blanched as she gripped the envelope and its contents in both hands.

"Eames?"

The sound of his voice seemed to spur her to action. Without so much as a glance at him, she took off at a trot toward the elevators, the mysterious mail still clutched in her hand.

"Eames!"

Bobby's few moments of stunned inaction gave her the advantage at the elevators. He caught a brief glimpse of glittering anger before the doors slid closed. She was headed down while Bobby was stuck on the eleventh floor pressing the call button for the next elevator.

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Alex's heart was hammering in her chest, her breaths ragged with a combination of anger and panic. _How the hell could she know?_ There were two other people in the elevator with her, but that didn't stop Alex from pacing an anxious pattern – the damn thing was just too slow. Finally reaching the first floor, she quickly looked around the lobby then bolted to the front exit doors. She stopped once she reached the sidewalk and scanned the jostling crowed, looking for that one, unmistakable hair color…

"Nicole!"

Dodging most pedestrians but bumping into a few in her haste, Alex bore down on her target. "Wallace!"

Finally hearing her, Nicole stopped and turned, her expression clearly perplexed. Alex no sooner reached her than she gripped Nicole's arm with one hand and waved the contents of the other in her face.

"What is this?" Alex demanded.

Unfazed by Alex's fury or her iron grip, Nicole calmly looked at the papers in Alex's hand then met her eyes with little more than a mild question in her own.

"It appears to be a copy of a newspaper article."

Her grip flexed just a little tighter on Nicole's arm. "Why did you put it on my desk?"

Nicole's eyes flicked to where Alex held tight, but she didn't try to test the strength of her restraint. "What in the world makes you think I have anything to do with that?"

"Eames."

Alex didn't bother to turn when she heard Bobby's calm voice just behind her left shoulder. She felt the light touch of his hand on her upper arm – a gentle prompt for her to release Nicole. Alex let go and flexed her fingers to relieve the tension in her hand and forearm. Nicole hesitated a split second before bringing her hand up to rub at the red impression of Alex's fingers that marred the pale skin of her arm.

Glaring at Alex, Nicole seemed to have lost some of her controlled demeanor. "Why are you accusing me? Do you really think there's no one else in this world who wants to torment you?"

"Eames…" Bobby repositioned himself so he now stood somewhere between Alex and Nicole. "What…?" he stumbled over his question, obviously confused as to what prompted Alex's enraged behavior.

Meeting Nicole's glare with one of her own, Alex passed Bobby the envelope and paper she held in her hand. She gave him a few moments to read and understand what he was seeing. She then tore her gaze away from Nicole to look at him.

Bobby's eyes were still cast down to what he held. His lips were pursed and his mouth twitched as a muscle in his jaw tensed. She heard him blow out an angry breath before raising his eyes to Nicole.

"What did Lisa _Hahn_ want from you?" he asked very deliberately.

Alex frowned but said nothing.

"I told you. Information," Nicole continued to rub her arm and practically pouted up at Bobby. He was about to open his mouth to press further, when she continued on her own. "She asked a lot of questions about you, Detective," Nicole's eyes slid to Alex. "It seems she thought you two had something in common." She finally stopped playing the wounded victim, pulled her purse strap higher on her shoulder, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Judging by your reaction, apparently she was right."

"Where can we find her, Nicole?" Bobby's voice was grim and Alex could tell by his tone that he was at the end of his patience with her banter.

"I have no idea. I told you. She's mad." She looked from Alex to Bobby and back again. "Why don't you try the room next to his mother."

Without any clear thought as to her intent, Alex fisted her right hand and began to advance on Nicole. Bobby's grip on her elbow stopped her after only one step.

Nicole laughed gleefully. "It appears your partner has some fire in her after all," she gave Bobby a wicked grin. Squared shoulders and a grunt of exasperation were his only response. "Lucky you," she murmured.

The three of them faced off there on the busy New York City sidewalk, each mentally tallying the score and all of them determining that this round was a draw. Alex suddenly felt the rage draining from her. Bobby must have felt it too. His thumb began a light, rhythmic caress at her elbow, meant to reassure her of his solid standing by her side.

Nicole blinked first. "Well, Detectives… unless you have a reason to haul me back into that building, I'll be going now. I really must find that perfect outfit for a grieving widow." Nicole's eyes darted quickly to Alex before she turned to walk away. "You can let go of her arm now, Bobby," she called over her shoulder and then disappeared into the crowd.

Bobby removed his hand with a self-conscious start and shoved his fists into his pants pockets. Alex felt a wave of weariness wash over her, as though along with his hand Bobby had removed her strength. It was, she knew, the aftereffect of her adrenaline rush, but still, she felt defeated as she reached to take the papers back from Bobby's hand.

She looked at what she held and felt the heat of Bobby's gaze. She knew without even looking at him that he was studying her with extreme concern. Once again, Alex read the headline.

_'Fiery Crash Kills Queens Man, DUI Suspected' _

It was all there. The entire newspaper article on Daniel McKinnon's fatal drunk driving accident. _Uncle Danny_.

_TBC… _


	5. Chapter 5

**Lex Talionis** – Chapter 5

"Nicole Wallace didn't do this."

"I take it you disagree." Captain Deakins directed his statement to a frowning Eames. She and Bobby had already gone one round in this debate, but he figured she was too emotionally vested to see his side of it.

"She's proven time and again that she's capable of something like this," Eames' retorted from her seat in front of Deakins desk.

"How would she have found out about Danny McKinnon?"

Eames squirmed a little in her chair. "She spent a lot of time with Lisa Hahn," she answered the Captain. "Sarah Moreno must have talked with Lisa before she died."

"Now, that part… I agree with." Bobby straightened from where he'd been leaning against the cabinet and took a step closer to her. The look she gave him still spoke of defiance and Bobby pursed his lips in frustration. "Look," he sighed and shuffled one step closer to his partner, intent on reasoning with her. "If Nicole knew about McKinnon, she… she would have used it. In the interview room." He paused and looked from Eames to the Captain, trying to gauge whether or not he was persuading them. "She'd want to see your first reaction."

Eames' eyes clouded with a hint of doubt and that's when Bobby knew he would be able to argue her over to his side.

"Eames," he tipped his head to one side and held her gaze. "What has Nicole been trying to accomplish these past few days? She wants to… to separate us. Drive a wedge into our partnership. Her game has been to divide and conquer, and she would know that this…" he picked up the now evidence-bagged newspaper article, "this would have the opposite effect," he argued gently. "Nicole would know that reminding us of Danny McKinnon, would only serve to put me more firmly by your side." Her eyes widened and Bobby backpedaled. "A-as a… friend. And partner."

The last vestige of anger faded from her eyes and her shoulders slumped in defeat. He watched Eames expel her resentment in one long sigh. "Great," she tossed her head to sweep her hair from her cheek. "Now there's someone else out there I can hate as much as Nicole Wallace." Bobby smiled. Even in defeat, Eames' snark was firmly intact.

"So, who sent the envelope?" Deakins asked.

"I think it's Lisa Hahn," Bobby glanced at Deakins then back at Eames. "Nicole told us. Hahn was interested in you. She sees you as having something in common with her. She may even be fixated on you." Bobby once again held up the evidence bag. "Sending this could be her invitation to form a connection."

"How are they supposed to form a connection, when Hahn can't even be found?" The Captain was sounding frustrated.

"We need to go back and talk with her family and friends," Bobby squared his shoulders. "We asked the wrong questions the first time."

"Because we were treating her as a victim," Eames' eyes held the light of understanding. "Not a suspect."

"Isn't she from State College?" Deakins asked and Bobby nodded. "The mountains of Pennsylvania in the middle of winter… better pack your tire chains."

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"Shit!" Eames' sudden exclamation punched through Wagner's _Ride of the Valkyries_ that Bobby was listening to on his iPod.

After leaving Deakins' office, he and Eames had placed phone calls and made arrangements to drive to Pennsylvania the next day to re-interview Lisa Hahn's family and friends. With each conversation, they had to tactfully dodge the question of whether or not Lisa had been found. At this point, with no proof, friends and family would not be told of their suspicions.

Eames also had the foresight to make reservations for tomorrow night at a motel near State College, just in case. Mountains. Snow. Ski season. Somehow, sleeping in a cold, cramped SUV while snow-bound on Route 80 didn't sound appealing to her. Go figure.

Once all those arrangements were made, Eames decided she needed to burn off some of her pent up energy. (Bobby was about to correct her with the word 'anger,' but thought it best to let it go.) He decided to join her at the gym since it had been at least a week since he'd done anything more physically taxing than climbing the few flights of stairs at his apartment building. _Ride of the Valkyries_ was the most invigorating piece of music he knew to help pass the boring task of jogging on the treadmill.

He pulled out his left earpiece. "What?" he questioned her outburst.

"I forgot to call Terry." Eames barely sounded winded after more than twenty minutes on the elliptical machine.

"Terry?" He cast about in his memory until he recalled the vaguely familiar name. "The guy you were seeing when you were pregnant?"

"Yeah," Eames picked up her towel and wiped her forehead.

"So…" Bobby realized his pace had slowed and he picked it back up. "You're back together?"

"Not exactly." She was flushed, and he was trying to figure out if it was the exercise or something else. Eames seemed to hesitate before shrugging and answering his question. "Unfortunately, or fortunately, the sex was the only thing that was ever really good between us."

Goren frowned. _Fuck buddies._

"What?" She sounded irritated by his silence.

"You deserve more than that." Bobby ground out and kept his eyes averted.

"I agree. But this will do until _more_ comes along."

"You know," he fought to keep his tone even, "you need to be careful with these guys."

"_These guys?_ What guys?"

"The ones who only want to take advantage of you."

"What makes you think I'm not taking advantage of them?"

His frown deepened to a scowl and she laughed. "Bobby, I've already got a dad and two brothers. I don't need any more." She picked up her towel again and this time wiped her throat down to the neckline of her jogging bra. All that served to do was draw his attention to her bare midriff. "Besides, I know how to take care of myself."

He slowed his jog to a walk and then stepped off the treadmill. "Oh, really?"

Recognizing a challenge when she heard one, Eames brought the elliptical to a stop and lifted her chin. "Really."

Bobby wasn't done yet with his workout and he felt up for a little fun. "How long's it been since your last defensive training cert?" Her eyes narrowed but he still saw the gleam of accepting his dare.

"Two months."

Once they were on the mats, Eames couldn't suppress her grin and he smiled back at her. It was hard for either of them to take this seriously. They both knew that physically he could easily overpower her, unless she wanted to cause him some serious harm. He'd seen her take down men almost his size and knew she could take care of herself. This was all in the name of fun.

So, they mainly spent some time practicing defensive and offensive positioning. Throws and falls. He had Eames throw punches at his open palms, showing off her right cross. (Which may have been a mistake without padding because his hands were stinging.)

No matter how many times in the future Bobby would re-think the events, he would never figure out what prompted Eames' next move. She swung a right cross – hard – then spun on her left leg and caught his hip with the flat of her right foot, throwing him off-balance but not off his feet. His eyes widened and she grinned in triumph.

"Oh, I see. That's how you want to play it." He took a step back from her to center his weight, then lunged at her, reaching for her waist. Eames fists came up and he grabbed her wrists instead. (Looking back on it, he also sometimes wondered how she let that happen.) Eames twisted and pulled, and they struggled to the edge of the mats, neither one a clear winner. They both recognized a moment when, if Eames were truly trying to defend herself, her knee would have come up hard and fast. Instead, she only flinched and that gave Bobby enough of an advantage to step into her and pin her back against the wall. He held a slender wrist in each of his hands and the potentially dangerous leg was pinioned beneath his thigh.

At this point, Eames was laughing hard and squirming. But when Bobby refused to give her a break, she finally settled down and accepted her defeat with a huge smile and a resigned shrug. "I didn't want to really hurt you."

"I know," he acknowledged.

Her body had stilled and she was smiling up at him. Bobby's heart lurched at the sight of her so happy – right before he became acutely aware of just how they were positioned. He loomed over her. Her wrists were held against the wall and her free leg was draped over his knee. His thigh was snugged up against feminine heat.

Bobby swallowed convulsively with a suddenly dry throat. His eyes must have betrayed something because Eames' smile melted and she blinked in confusion. Her lips parted but no words came – just rapid little breaths and the tip of her tongue as it anxiously traced her lower lip. His gaze wandered down to the pulse point at the hollow of her throat. Her heart was racing.

"Eames…" he croaked, not knowing what he intended to say but fully aware that he didn't want to let her go. Her eyes seemed to be pleading for something, and Bobby couldn't help himself. He flexed his thigh muscle. Alex's breath caught and her hips rocked into the pressure. "Bobby…" her voice hitched, "please…" she whimpered.

He hesitated. _Please, what? Stop?_

But in his ears, her short, shallow breaths spoke erotic invitation. And he never would have believed he was selfish enough to do it again, but he was wrong. His muscle flexed against heat and her lids closed over the dark pools that were her eyes. Alex's head lolled forward onto his shoulder and Bobby buried his chin in her damp hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and sweat. He groaned low in his throat as he felt himself tightening where he was pressed against her waist, his flesh eagerly reaching for her.

"Alex…" he experimented with her name on his tongue and he heard her inhale deeply of the crook of his neck. Her fingers clenched and unclenched as if seeking to grasp fistfuls of him and Bobby released her wrists. His tee-shirt bunched into her hands and he heard another deep breath of himself flowing into her. His left hand threaded into her hair and held her damp, warm scalp as he too indulged himself with more of her scent. He moved to lean her head back when they heard the crash of a locker door from either the men's or ladies' changing room – he couldn't tell which.

Bobby reflexively jerked back from her and Alex didn't hesitate to duck under his arm. She jogged off toward the ladies' room without so much as a backward glance and the last he saw of her was her sweat-darkened hair swinging at her shoulders.

He looked dazedly around the gym and saw Pete Garcia walking in from the men's locker room. Pete grunted a greeting and waved at Bobby before heading over to the universal gym to adjust the weights for his workout.

Bobby spotted Eames' towel still draped over the elliptical machine. He walked over to retrieve it and, once he was in the locker room, couldn't resist holding it to his face and again savoring her scent.

It was going to be a long night.

_TBC…_

A/N – Okay, in this chapter I've probably gone way beyond 'unlikely' and stepped into the realm of 'implausible.' :-) I'd like to call out special thanks to raz0r.girl, gorengal, Scripted Starlet and InfinityStar for believing that I can actually still… you know… write!


	6. Chapter 6

**Lex Talionis** – Chapter 6

The warm spray of the shower sluiced her body as she stood, eyes tightly closed, waiting for her trembling to subside. She'd started to shampoo her hair, but her hands shook so badly that the slippery bottle had dropped to the tiled floor and she left it there while she tried to rein in her emotions.

What the hell was that?

_You know what it was, Alex – exactly what you've been asking for all evening._

_You're the one who chose to wear your sport bra without your usual tee-shirt over it. You're the one who couldn't stop secretly watching him as he worked out – the way his back muscles flexed beneath his shirt when he adjusted the weights on the universal equipment. The bulge of his biceps while he did his bench presses. His taut thighs working smoothly as he jogged on the treadmill. And the whole time he was apparently oblivious to your presence. You know it was his oblivion that prompted your provocative comment about Terry. Bobby was happily ignoring you and you had to stir things up by 'casually' mentioning your sex life._

_And, oh my god, did you really let him catch your wrists? You both know he's stronger but you're quicker. You could have easily danced out of his way. God, Alex, you're pathetic. A few erotic dreams about your partner and now you're trying to…_

To what?

_Well, I don't know exactly, but it sure as hell shouldn't be THAT._

Still shaking and feeling miserable after her internal argument, Alex stooped down to pick up the shampoo bottle, squirted some of the fragrant liquid into her palm, and began scrubbing at her scalp more forcefully than was totally necessary. A fragment of the song from _South Pacific_ – _'I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair'_ – flitted through her mind and Alex smirked at the silly verse. Despite her disdain for the sappy musical, she began humming the tune. But the image of her standing on a beach under a palm tree wearing a sarong and singing about Bobby brought on full laughter that quickly escalated to something akin to hysteria. Her emotions churned and spilled in her laughter until it abruptly ended on a final, lust-filled gasp as she remembered the feel of him pressed against her.

_Totally pathetic, Alex. You really need to call Terry and get laid._

-------------------------

Bobby hung up the phone, took a final swallow of his coffee, then rinsed the mug and turned it upside down on the dish drainer. After a walk through his apartment to make sure things were turned off and locked up, he grabbed his garment bag off the bed and went downstairs to wait in the building lobby. That was Eames on the phone, letting him know she was just a few blocks away from his apartment. It was the first time they'd spoken since last night, and it was a short, efficient conversation. Bobby sensed that she was as on edge as he, even though he was the one who lay awake most of the night trying to frame some sort of apology for his behavior. The problem was that as much as he wanted to berate himself for what had happened, a small part of him argued that she hadn't resisted – that she had, in fact, been receptive to their… _Their, what? Physical encounter? _Hell, he didn't even know what to call it, let alone begin to explain it.

A Canadian cold front had blasted into the region overnight and temperatures had plunged severely. As he stood in the unheated lobby staring out at the drear November morning, Bobby was sorely tempted to light a cigarette to calm his nerves and ward off the cold. But he knew how much the smell bothered Eames, especially in the small confines of the SUV. So, he refrained and instead studied the icy patterns that painted the panes of glass in the front door. Bobby looked to the lead-gray sky that forewarned the snow promised by The Weather Channel, and hoped that it held off at least until they reached State College. Eames was a competent driver and she was used to all kinds of road conditions. But driving in snow and ice would only add another layer of anxiety to what already promised to be a strained commute.

The black SUV doubled-parked in front of his building and Bobby pushed his way out the front door into the frigid air just as Eames was about to hit the horn. He heard the automatic door locks click and he opened the back to hang his garment bag on the passenger side before climbing in the front. The cabin was warm, smelled of fresh coffee, and he saw two steaming cups of Starbucks in the cup holders.

"I thought you might want another hit of caffeine," Eames said as she looked over her left shoulder to ease their way back into traffic.

"Yeah," he replied as he picked up the steaming cup with his gloved hand. "Thanks."

They drove in awkward silence with Bobby looking out the window at the slow-moving traffic and bundled up pedestrians huffing white plumes, while Eames carefully navigated their way to the tunnel where they would exit the City. Outbound traffic was always much better in the morning than incoming, and they soon found themselves on the other side of the river driving through the industrial area of northern New Jersey on their way to the mountains of Pennsylvania.

"Did you get breakfast?" Eames finally broke the silence.

"Yeah, I did." _If a glass of orange juice and a cigarette before my shower count as breakfast._ "What about you?"

Eames pointed to the dashboard and a half-eaten bagel nestled in a napkin that Bobby would have sworn was there yesterday. He finally allowed himself to really look at her for the first time that morning. There were smudges under her eyes and he noted the tense set of her jaw. This was going to be a long and confining ride if they didn't kick the white elephant out right now.

"Eames…" he began gently and then stumbled over what to say next. He'd come up with so many different speeches during the night but could never settle on exactly the right thing to say. Bobby finally decided to just dive in. "I think we need to talk… about last night."

She paled and he saw her grip on the steering wheel tighten, but she refused to look at him. "What about last night?" she asked, eyes riveted on the road ahead.

Bobby felt a spark of anger in his chest and he blew out a breath of frustration in order to cool it before it had a chance to flare. _Why does she have to make me work for this?_ He wasn't alone in that gym last night and despite the fact that he would accept all of the blame, Bobby really did know that he wasn't solely responsible for what almost happened. He remembered the feel of her hands fisting his shirt and the sound of her breathing him in. Her soft whimper and dark eyes.

He cocked his head to study her. Eames was so obviously uncomfortable and, he realized, probably regretting what had happened. He, on the other hand, was finding it hard to regret anything other than Pete Garcia's interruption. Bobby sighed. The gentleman in him would let her get away with this.

"Look… I'll do whatever you want, Eames," he shifted his left leg and twisted in his seat so he could face her. "I… I think we should talk. Get it out in the open. But if you… don't want to or you'd rather… ignore it," he paused. Eames' eyes narrowed and her lips pursed into a thin line. "If you want to ignore it, then that's what we'll do," he finished.

"You can do that?" she demanded so suddenly that Bobby was taken aback. When she glanced at him, her eyes shone with irritation. "You can just go on about your day like nothing happened? You can just… forget the whole thing?"

She fixed her eyes back on the road. Her hands gripped the wheel and Eames was shaking her head with what Bobby interpreted as a total, general disgust with the entire male species. _Okay, bad call. She obviously _doesn't _want to ignore the whole thing._

"Ignoring isn't the same thing as forgetting," he said softly.

And just like that, she softened. Her shoulders relaxed, her head leaned back against the headrest, and the tension fled her facial features with her deep sigh. "I'm sorry, Bobby." She looked at him briefly and gave him a wan smile. "It was a long night."

He nodded agreement but said nothing, waiting for her to guide them.

"Can we just…" she hesitated, seeming to collect her thoughts before continuing. "Can we just get through these interviews today? Then, if we both feel like it, we can talk later?" Eames gave him another worried glance before turning her attention back to the road.

Tenderness welled up within him. He hated to see her so distressed and wanted to reassure her. "Like I said, Eames…" he settled back into a forward position in his seat. "I'll do whatever you want."

_TBC…_


	7. Chapter 7

A/N – This chapter has been an incredibly long time coming, so first I'll thank any and every one who is still reading this story. I've been sorely tempted many times to just delete it rather than leave it out here unfinished. Keep your fingers crossed that Vampira has come home for the winter.

--------------------------------

**Lex Talionis** – Chapter 7

As it turned out, the weather didn't delay their arrival in State College. It was a five-car pile-up on Route 80 that stopped traffic dead and trapped them on the highway between exits. With thick woods on either side, there wasn't even the chance to drive cross country to the nearest road – although Bobby suspected Eames was sorely tempted by the narrow break in trees about ten feet ahead of them.

After half an hour of no movement, they both pulled out their cell phones and began calling to shuffle their afternoon interviews. Eames seemed particularly frustrated by the fact that, try as she might, she could not re-schedule Jennifer Woodson for another time that day. Their interview with Lisa's friend and former college roommate would have to take place the next morning. It seemed those hotel reservations would come in handy after all.

During the phone calls, they had managed to crawl three car lengths before the police once again stopped all movement. The narrow break in trees was now behind them and Eames gave it a final, longing look before giving in to the inevitable. She put the car in park and turned off the engine while they waited. In the interest of peace and tranquility, they passed the time by listening to music, commenting on the threatening weather, or talking about work – meticulously avoiding any personal topics lest they lead to that one personal topic that was currently off limits.

Almost three hours later than planned, they arrived at the home of Maureen Hahn. Bobby and Alex reluctantly left the warmth of the SUV and stood in a biting wind on the sidewalk, frowning at the small structure crouched between two larger brick homes. If not for the eighties-era gray aluminum siding and burgundy fake shutters, Bobby wouldn't have recognized the place. When they were here last spring, the beds flanking either side of the front walk had been filled with newly planted pansies and fresh mulch. The rose bushes were neatly shaped and laden with buds on the verge of bloom. On the porch, a jumbled collection of mismatched wicker furniture and brightly painted side tables had somehow worked together to offer the promise of a comfortable refuge from the hot sun in the coming summer months.

But the bitter cold gray of November could only partially explain the distinct air of neglect now shrouding the house. Fallen leaves that should have been raked weeks ago lay wet and smothering on the lawn. The overgrown roses were tipped with frozen remnants of dead flowers and their branches created a bramble that threatened to overtake the walkway. The spring wreath that had been so bright and cheerful on the front door was still hanging, but half of its yellow and pink flowers were missing. Those that remained were bleak and dirty like everything else on the porch.

After a quick but meaningful glance at him, Eames walked to the front door and he followed. Seconds after he rang the doorbell, Maureen Hahn answered wearing jeans and a fluffy sweater, with neatly styled hair and carefully applied makeup. Her appearance contrasted so sharply with the caretaking of her home that Bobby wondered if he had jumped to conclusions by thinking that Maureen was not coping well with the disappearance of her only child. But his suspicions were re-confirmed when she greeted him and shook his hand. Her breath had the distinct aroma of someone who had already consumed several alcoholic drinks, even though it was barely three o'clock in the afternoon. And he noticed the dark smudges beneath the concealer under her eyes and the boniness of her slender hand.

"Thank you for seeing us, Mrs. Hahn," Eames said after they settled themselves on the couch across from Maureen's chair.

"When you first called, I had hoped…" her voice broke and her already rheumy eyes teared up.

"Well, we do have some encouraging news. There's a witness who says she's seen Lisa…" Eames hedged around the truth. "In New York."

Maureen visibly started and frowned. "Really? New York?" She looked away to a picture of Lisa standing on an end table and pressed thin, trembling fingers to her lips. "So that's where she is," she murmured.

Bobby glanced at Eames and saw in her eyes the same combination of confusion and irritation that he felt. "Uh… what do you mean?"

"Have you heard from Lisa?" Eames asked.

It was Maureen's turn to look confused. "No…"

"It's just that…" Bobby hesitated. "You don't seem… surprised o-or relieved that she's alive."

"Has she done this before? Disappeared for months?" Eames pressed further.

"She doesn't dis-…" Maureen stumbled then continued. "She usually… She keeps in touch."

"But not this time?" Maureen shook her head at Eames' question. "So you've known. She's done this before, and you've known that she was out there somewhere."

"Lisa…" she looked anxiously from Bobby to Eames, as if trying to decide who would best understand. Her gaze landed on Bobby. "Lisa has always been reclusive. It's as if she's in her own world sometimes. She withdraws from people… from everything."

"What do you mean 'withdraws'?" he prodded.

"Like when she was a girl. Sometimes she would spend days in her room. If it wasn't summer, I would have to force her to go to school, and then she would just go back in there at night."

Bobby was about to press further, but Maureen continued on her own.

"And she had imaginary friends. I didn't think too much of it at first, but it started to get weird, ya know? I mean, there were times she talked to them more than she would talk to me."

He nodded in understanding. "What did her doctors say?"

"Doctors?"

"Yes. Doctors. Was she ever diagnosed as… autistic or, ah… depressed?"

"I…" Maureen looked baffled. "I don't know. I never took her to a doctor because of how she acts. It's just how she is." Bobby's expression must have revealed something of his resentment at her indifference to her daughter's possible mental illness because Maureen's tone was suddenly defensive. "Look, Lisa was a hard child to love. She shunned affection and preferred to be left alone."

Frustrated, Bobby dipped his head and scrubbed at the back of his neck with his left hand. _How can a mother simply accept this behavior in her daughter? Here's just another example of someone who should never have had a child._

"Mrs. Hahn," Eames spoke up and Bobby glanced at her in time to catch the concern in her eyes before she turned away from him. "The last time we were here, you said you still had a lot of Lisa's things in a guest room." Maureen nodded. "Can we see it?"

The small bedroom at the top of the stairs was tidy but dusty – obviously not used for a long time. It was impersonally decorated except for the bookcase on the far wall, which held all manner of books, high school awards, and odds and ends of childhood treasures. Eames walked across the room to look out the window while Bobby headed straight for the bookcase. Clasping his hands behind his back, he leaned in to examine the myriad collection of books, ranging from children's stories and romance novels, to biographies and college textbooks. A particular series of books on one shelf caught his eye and he picked up a few of them and began leafing through the pages.

"It's starting to snow," he heard Eames murmur and Maureen joined her at the window.

"Your daughter…" Bobby looked up from the books he held. "She went to Kutztown and studied computer science, is that right?" Maureen nodded. "Did she go to another school? To study theology?" He held up one of the open books. "All these books…"

"No. She read those on her own."

"Really?" his voice held surprise and a tinge of admiration. "Hinduism… Buddhism… Ethnic faiths…" He was flipping through the books in his hands and scanning titles of those still on the shelf. "The full range of Abrahamic religions… When did her interest start?"

"Um, college," she replied vaguely.

Bobby raised his brow in question and waited for a more complete answer.

Maureen seemed a little irritated by his persistence. "I don't know. Maybe her sophomore or junior year."

He nodded. "When she was twenty, or… twenty-one…" Bobby fanned the pages of the two books he held. "She made notes. In the margins of these books. Like here… _Theravada Buddhism in Modern Nepal_," Bobby began to read aloud from Lisa's neat, compact cursive. "'Path of moderation away from the extremes of sensual indulgence…,' 'Approaching antithetical claims about reality…' And here, in _The Truth of Tao_… 'Ethics emphasizing compassion, moderation, and humility…,' ' The link between people and nature lessens the need for rules and order.'"

Bobby closed the books and studied Maureen Hahn. She seemed unphased by what he just read. "What do you think, Mrs. Hahn? Does that sound like Lisa? Like things she thinks about?"

Maureen crossed her arms in front of her and shrugged. "I don't know what any of that means."

"Mmm," Bobby gave a noncommittal response and put the books back on the shelf. "Well… she was obviously searching for something. Something… she could relate to." Another thought occurred to him. "You said that Lisa wasn't seeing anyone at the time she disappeared. But did she ever have a boyfriend? O-or a… a girlfriend for that matter."

"No!" she answered vehemently but must have realized how defensive it sounded because she continued more calmly. "I mean… she's dated, certainly. Men," she said pointedly. "But never anyone serious. And never for more than a few months."

--------------------

"Bobby, I have to confess…I didn't understand any of what Lisa wrote in her books either."

Half an hour later, he and Eames were back out in the biting cold walking to the SUV which was now covered with a light dusting of snow. The flurries had stopped, but the sky was more threatening than ever.

"Well… that's just it," he said while pulling his hat down over his ears. "The notes were all confusion. Judging by some of the dates, the books were read at different times… and the notes written over a span of years. But the confusion… that stayed the same."

Eames stopped short and grabbed his arm. He looked at her but she was staring at a spot down the street and he turned to see what had caught her attention. There on the street corner, watching them from behind a telephone pole was Lisa Hahn. As soon as she realized she had been spotted, she turned and ran up the cross street, quickly blocked from their view by the house on the corner.

"Lisa!" Bobby called out and started running after her. He heard the car keys jangling in Eames' hand and figured she was headed for the SUV. "Lisa!"

He reached the corner and jogged a few steps in her same direction, but there was no sign of Lisa – only the sound of a car speeding off somewhere up the street. Bobby sucked cold air into his lungs as the black SUV pulled up next to him.

"Did you see where she went?" Eames called out of the open window.

"No. She was already gone… I heard a car."

"Did you see the plates?"

"No," he grunted in frustration as he climbed into the car. "I couldn't even tell you which way she turned up there."

Eames put the car in park and rolled up the windows. "So. Was Maureen lying to us the whole time? Lisa has been coming home to see her?"

Bobby rubbed two fingers along his lower lip as he thought about it. "She'd have to be a hell of an actor," he decided. "I don't think she was lying."

"Me either."

"I also don't think Lisa was here to see her mother," he shifted in his seat and turned to his partner. "I think she followed us from New York."

_TBC…_

A/N – Credit to my usual source for Bobby's gobbledygook … Wikipedia. Also, a huge "thank you" to Merel (who I remember from SMK fandom!) for an awesomely motivating review at a time when I really needed it!


	8. Chapter 8

**Lex Talionis** – Chapter 8

For a place that was booked sight unseen, the Hilton Garden Inn in State College turned out to be quite nice. A low building of only three stories, it snugged into the surrounding landscape, and its warmly glowing lights looked welcoming within the snow-covered grounds.

Alex and Bobby checked into their third floor rooms and agreed to meet in the restaurant, Harrisons Wine Country Grill, in half an hour. She made it downstairs first, and as Alex sat at the table reading the menu and waiting for her partner, she had time to reflect on their afternoon.

Very little information had been gained in return for the amount of time spent at the offices of Lisa Hahn's former employer. Lance Johnson was a tall, good-looking, African American man with a firm handshake and an apparently busy schedule. He'd built a successful real estate business in nearby Milesburg, but Alex got the impression he was trying too hard to appear overly important. He did not dismiss any incoming phone calls and, at first, the detectives tolerated it, realizing that their original appointment time had been rescheduled. But by the sixth interruption, her partner's patience was wearing thin.

"Mr. Johnson…" Bobby closed his notebook and straightened to his full intimidating height. "Maybe it would be better if we conducted this interview at our office."

Lance Johnson frowned. "I thought you were from New York…?"

Bobby nodded, "We are."

"But… getting there and back…" Johnson now looked panicked. "That would take all day!"

"We know," Alex said. Her sarcastic tone earned her a look of utter disdain from Johnson, but he pressed the intercom button on his phone and asked the receptionist to hold all calls.

After that, the most useful information they obtained was that Lisa was quiet and professional when she was on the job, but called in sick more often than any of Johnson's other employees. When asked the reason for her absences, Johnson told them that Lisa suffered from migraines. "Funny, her mother never mentioned migraines," Alex muttered when they left Johnson's offices. Bobby's response had been a distracted hum of agreement.

Alex lost focus on the menu as she thought about Bobby's distraction and silence during the drive to the hotel. Did something Johnson said have Bobby mulling over some aspect of the case? Or was he thinking about Alex's earlier promise – that they would talk later about this indefinable something that was shimmering between them? Her memory flashed back to the previous night and butterflies swooped dizzily in her stomach. Bobby had playfully pinned her against the wall, with his hands holding her wrists and his thigh pressed against her. He was laughing at her ineffectual struggles, and his warm breath had fanned against her cheek. But when Alex smiled happily up at him, uncertainty had clouded his eyes, quickly followed by a sober heat. All pretense of teasing faded, and she was sure Bobby had been about to kiss her when a noise from the men's locker room interrupted them. _If only Garcia had better timing… the jerk!_

Alex quickly chided herself for allowing her mind and body to consider such a dangerous notion. Bobby saw her as his partner and his friend. He'd recently broken up with Denise and last night was nothing more than confused frustration. _Right?_

_That's good, Alex. Just keep telling yourself that…_

"Is this seat taken?"

Startled out of her musings, Alex felt a blush creep up her cheeks and she ducked her head to feign interest in the menu. "I was expecting someone, but since he's late…" she let the invitation trail off. Bobby snorted amusement and sat down across from her.

After a few comments, it seemed that neither of them really wanted to discuss the case, and dinner was mostly spent in comfortable silence. Alex wondered about this on their way back up to their rooms. Bobby hadn't once tried to raise the subject of the 'discussion,' and she realized that, true to his word, he would ignore it if that were her choice. He was leaving it to her to broach the issue – or forget it altogether.

She stopped in front of room 312 and dug her key card out of her jacket pocket. Bobby waited for her to slide her card and unlock the door. Alex hesitated with the door ajar, her hand gripping the handle, and remembered the moment last night when she thought he would kiss her.

"Well… good night," Bobby murmured before she had a chance to say anything and he headed off to room 323.

"Bobby," Alex called after him. He stopped and turned to face her. "Half an hour?"

Judging by his bemused expression, she must have taken him by surprise. After a few tense moments, he nodded. "I'll, uh… come to your room?" he ended on a question.

"Yeah. Just knock on the door."

Alex hurriedly stripped out of her clothes, wrapped her hair in a towel to keep it dry and stepped into the shower. She hoped the warm water would help relax her, and it did a little. After quickly drying herself, she smoothed scented lotion on her arms and legs, forgoing her usual full-body routine when she checked the time. _Dammit! Too much time in the shower._ She slipped into her gray sweatpants and was just pulling a pink tee-shirt over her head when she heard the knock at her door.

"I'm coming!" she called then bit her lip. _God, Alex… get your mind out of the gutter!_

"Hey," she greeted him when she opened the door.

"Hey." Bobby's nod to getting comfortable had been to remove his tie and open the top buttons of his shirt, although she noticed a distinct smell of soap and mouthwash as he walked past her and into the room. He stopped midway in and looked around. Alex followed his gaze and realized that the seating arrangements consisted of one small couch, a wooden chair at the built-in desk, and two queen-size beds. Bobby chose one end of the couch.

Now that he was here, Alex's resolve wavered and she was beginning to think this was a pretty bad idea. She looked around for something – anything – to distract herself. "Want something from the mini-bar?" she asked hopefully.

"No… I'm good."

_How the hell can he be so calm?_ Spotting the bottle of lotion, Alex picked it up, assessed her seating options, and decided to sit at the other end of the couch. _If he can appear calm, so can I._ Stalling for time, she squeezed some lotion into the palm of her hand and began massaging her bare foot. _Maybe I can start this conversation if I just don't look at him…_

"I'm no Derek Jeter, but I've been told I give a good foot massage," Bobby teased.

Alex regarded him through the veil of her lashes and hesitated. A foot massage was pretty personal. But, then again, so was the topic they were about to broach. "How good?" _Sassy… always a good choice._

"Hand me that lotion," Bobby reached for the bottle with a confident smile. He poured some lotion on his palm and rubbed his hands together, spreading and warming it before touching her. "Now hand me your foot." Alex smirked at him and stretched her leg so that her foot rested mid-thigh. He gently grasped her foot and began working the heel of one palm into her arch while the fingers on his other hand curved and caressed her toes. She had to close her eyes and swallow a groan of pleasure. From that point on, her mind followed its own sensual path.

"Raspberry."

"What?" Alex opened her eyes and forced her thoughts away from her fantasy to focus on what he'd said. "No… it's vanilla bean."

He smiled. "Not the lotion… your nail polish."

"Oh." Alex glanced self-consciously at her brightly colored toenails. Regular pedicures were an indulgence for her. But for the same reason that she splurged on silky lingerie, she allowed herself the expense because wearing pink, coral or red on her toenails gave her secret reassurance of femininity beneath the professional and sometimes drab outerwear of her job. "It's actually called 'Love's Lavender' or something," she said unnecessarily. The corner of Bobby's mouth quirked, but he said nothing as his hands and fingers continued their task of pampering her right foot.

Alex closed her eyes and was just recapturing her sensual fantasy when she heard Bobby clear his throat before speaking. "Eames… Alex. This… thing between us…"

_Dear Bobby… bless you for being the brave one. _She looked at him and was surprised that he seemed calm, not at all nervous.

"We've known each other a long time, almost five years. We spend a lot of time together and we… understand things about each other that others don't…" His hands stopped moving, but he continued to hold her foot as his dark eyes bored into her with an intensity she recognized. _This is how Bobby looks when he's searching for answers._

"What are you saying?"

"Maybe… maybe this is just… familiarity. Friendship and affection." He offered up this explanation, but Alex sensed a lack of conviction in his presentation. She felt his hands grip her foot more tightly and his eyes locked hers, preventing her from looking away. "We can say that it is, if that's what you want."

Her heart was pounding. Bobby was offering her a way out, but she wasn't sure she wanted one. "What do you want?" she countered.

"I want…," one hand left her foot and ran distractedly through his hair. "I want not to screw this up." His hand came back down to rest on her shin and his gaze was steady. "What do you want?"

She considered his question and studied him. His salt-and-pepper waves. His dark eyes watching her so intently, so full of questions and waiting for her answer. His unshaven jaw. And his mouth with that full lower lip just begging to be kissed. "I want to stop wondering," she answered quietly.

Decision made, Alex leaned toward him… watching his eyes… waiting for some sign of rejection or denial on his part. It never came.

She tasted him on the millimeter of breath between them – toothpaste, and Bobby. Her eyes drifted shut, their lips met and he yielded to her kiss. She was light and tentative at first, but when Bobby made no move to pull away, Alex surrendered to sensation. The feel of his lips responding her hers. The scent of his skin with its remaining trace of aftershave. Her heart thundering in her ears and chest so hard that she had to place a trembling hand on his shoulder to steady herself. A hand came up to rest firmly on her hip as his lips slid beneath hers. An unrestrained whimper of need escaped her and that's when Bobby took control. The hand on her hip smoothed over her ribs, his other gripped the back of her head and his mouth slanted over hers. Alex opened to his questing tongue and felt his urgent groan at the back of her throat. She leaned her body against his chest and, despite her awkward position, Bobby's arms held her in place, supporting her weight so she could forget that one leg was bent beneath her. His tongue explored the warmth of her mouth, tasting and stroking every surface then drawing away to lap teasingly at her lips and the tip of her tongue, before once again delving into the depths. Alex wrapped her arms tightly around him, her fingers digging in to the muscles of his back. Desperately she clung to him and willed herself to always remember this – the feel and taste of him.

Bobby pulled away first, burying his face in the crook of her neck and kissing the soft skin behind her ear. "Oh, God…" he whispered against her. She crooned a protest into his hair and threaded her fingers against his scalp, tugging him away from her neck so she could go back to kissing him. He willingly recaptured her lips, but with less intensity and a little more sanity. Alex softened her demand as Bobby's hands gently soothed her back. With a few final tastes of him, she ended the kiss but stayed seated where she was, practically in his lap. He avoided her gaze, looking instead at his hands as they rubbed up and down her arms.

"Hey." Placing a hand on his cheek, Alex grazed his stubbled jaw with her thumb. She heard his breath catch and when his eyes finally met hers they held a heat and emotion that astonished her. She shivered as her vision blurred with the intensity of it all. Bobby pulled her head to his shoulder and held her close.

"Now I know," she murmured into his collar.

He kissed the top of her head. "What do you know?"

She ran a fingertip along the buttons of his shirt. "This isn't about friendship or familiarity."

"No, it's not," his arms tightened around her.

"What now?"

Bobby's chest swelled against her with a deep sigh. "I don't know." He pulled her away from him and looked into her eyes. "But I do know that we're not going to settle this tonight." She was about to protest, but he raised his eyebrows, set his jaw and sat her back on her side of the couch. "I, uh… I should go." Ignoring Alex's gaping mouth, Bobby stood up.

The only words her stunned mind could form were, _What the fuck?_ But before she had a chance to voice them, Bobby turned back to her. "What are you doing Saturday night?"

"I, uh…" she had to shift gears and wait for her brain to engage before answering. "I have plans to go to a comedy club with some friends," she vaguely remembered.

"Can you break them?"

Alex nodded numbly, still not believing that he was actually going to leave.

"Good," Bobby grinned. "How about spending the evening with me? I don't know yet what we'll do, but I'll think of something."

And then it hit her. Bobby was being… Bobby. A gentleman. And by doing so, he was ensuring that this wasn't just a night in some motel. He was asking her on a date. As she thought about it, she wondered why she had expected anything less from him. Alex could only nod in response to his invitation.

"Great." His smile wavered and he suddenly seemed at a loss for anything more to say as Alex sat there staring at him, still unable to speak. "Well… I'll, uh… I'll see you in the morning." He made it as far as the door before she could move.

"Bobby!" Alex suddenly jumped up from the couch and rushed over to him. Reaching up she grasped the back of his neck and pulled him down into her kiss. His hands gripped her waist and Alex pushed her tongue into his willing mouth. Wanting more than anything for him to stay yet knowing it wasn't going to happen, she put all her longing and desire into the kiss. This time she pulled away first and left Bobby breathing hard as she laid her head against his chest, listening to the rapid thrum of his heart.

"You're not making this easy for me," he croaked.

She looked up at him with an impudent smile. "Who said I'm easy?"

With a smile and a playful swat at her hip, he opened the door. "See you tomorrow."

"Thanks for the foot massage," she called after him as the door swung closed.

"My pleasure."

_TBC…_


	9. Chapter 9

A/N – POSTED: 8/13/08. Since this update has been a long time coming, a case RECAP from the stories and events leading up to this point is included at the bottom of this chapter in **all-bold** text. Scroll down and read that first if you need a quick refresher.

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**Lex Talionis** – Chapter 9

_The firm curve of her shoulder looked as smooth and cool as polished marble, inviting a human touch. Beneath his fingertips, her radiant heat belied the image of cold stone as he traced a slow path to the line of her neck. When he found a sensitive spot behind her ear, he held his breath and listened for her soft sighs. She was beguiling with her sensuous curves and inviting sounds, but his hand stilled and he hesitated. Something about her didn't feel right and he became wary. He wished her face would come into focus so he could see if her pleasure was as genuine as it sounded – he suspected it wasn't._

_A rustle of leaves distracted him from the swirling doubts. He looked to his left, beyond the cinch of her waist and there he saw a bird, tugging hard on a worm in an effort to gain its breakfast. The bird was either unafraid or oblivious to their presence. It ignored the naked man and woman lying on the warm earth amidst gold and crimson leaves as it continued to struggle with the recalcitrant worm._

_She stirred restlessly beneath his palm and insistently drew his attention back to her. Her body, which only moments ago was so cool and milky, now glowed warm and golden like amber. The fire he felt beneath his touch flushed her skin and shone from her eyes. No longer out of focus, he recognized her face and the golden brown of her eyes. They burned with the reflection of his own passion, and he thought he could willingly be consumed by their heat._

_Unintelligible murmurs issued from her parted lips and he leaned closer to try and understand what she was saying. It seemed important, but the words would not make sense in his mind and then, with her lips so close to his own, he no longer cared. He moved to silence her with his mouth, but just when he was close enough to feel the soft brush of her lips, another disturbance tugged at his senses._

_The sound of water gently lapping a lake's shore. Edged by a thick growth of mountain laurel, the lake looked dark and cold at its center, then turned a brilliant, tropical blue where its waves washed the land. He spotted a dead fish swaying gently in the rippling water. Its bloated, blanched body looked sickly and grotesque floating in the beautiful blue swells._

_But was it a fish? It seemed too large – large enough to be a man. Were the fins and tail actually hands and feet? And if so, shouldn't he go and investigate? Shouldn't he check to see if it was alive or dead? Wasn't he supposed to find out what killed it and why?_

_He was about to stand and walk to the lake when he felt a hot hand on the small of his back. The lake ceased to exist. He was back with her and her nonsensical murmurings. Although her words made no sense, he knew she was urging him on, forcing him to ignore the outside world and its distractions so he would pay attention to her. She had something important for him._

_If she only knew how much he wanted to bury himself in her – how much he wanted to linger over her and find out once and for all if it was possible to burn up their passion. This yearning had been building for longer than he cared to admit, and he wondered how many times – how many years – of lovemaking it would take to satisfy his hunger. Afterwards he would hold her to him forever and soak up her warmth, never again to feel cold or lonely._

_His need for her was growing painful and he rose above her, intent on finally satisfying the gnawing ache between them. Her hips lifted in invitation and he had to close his eyes or risk igniting in the fire of hers. Resigned to the fate of being consumed by her, he opened his eyes and … she was gone. All that was left were dead leaves and cool earth beneath him._

_Frantically he sat back on his haunches and scanned the vacant space around him. How could he have been so close to possession, only to lose her? The bird, a robin, was also gone, having abandoned its tug-of-war with the stubborn worm. The lake and its abundance of mountain laurel had vanished; only the dead fish-man remained._

_He opened his mouth to cry out her name, to rail against the world and beg for her return when he heard a voice above his right shoulder._

_"I thought you were better than this, Bobby." The lilting British accent mocked him._

Bobby's eyes snapped open. He lay there staring at a spot on the ceiling lit by a beam of light seeping through a gap in the room-darkening curtains. Years of experience with numerous nightmares had left him mostly immune to their waking terrors. As far as dreams went, he would classify this one as 'disturbing' at worst. 'Interesting' was more like it, with the contraposition of Nicole as white marble and Alex as golden amber.

He was a firm believer that the more bizarre the dream, the more likely it was that it held some insight into events and enigmas in your waking life. By his way of thinking, dreams were conjured by your id as it desperately demanded understanding or recognition of something your conscious self ignored. He needed to break down the dream and understand its components before it slipped away.

But his mind and body wanted to linger over the 'Alex' portions. Her eroticism quickened his pulse and gave him urges he was sorely tempted to satisfy. After what happened earlier that evening, Bobby did not need to spend time analyzing the sexual context of Alex in his dream. Any fool could figure that out.

The deceptive nature of Nicole Wallace in the dream was also fairly obvious. An interesting portrayal, but not in need of deep reflection. Although, how she fit in with the rest of the dream was worth considering.

So. What did that leave? The bird … a robin. Tugging on a worm. No … wait … a rope. It was a rope the bird was so determinedly worrying. Was it really trying to release the rope from the ground, or was it simply trying to call the attention of a pre-occupied Bobby?

And then there was the lake with its mountain laurel, Pennsylvania's state flower. A Pennsylvania lake with a dead fish. No, man. Well … fish-man. Kind of weird, that one.

Nicole Wallace.

Dead man.

Pennsylvania.

Water.

Rope.

Robin.

Nicole.

Needing only the shaft of light that shot through the curtains, Bobby swung his legs over the side of the bed, picked up the phone, and dialed Alex's room number. Her answering 'hello' didn't sound groggy at all. He glanced at the clock. Two fifty-eight A.M. Bobby briefly worried that she hadn't been sleeping, then tucked the fact away for later.

"Eames… I remembered something."

_TBC…_

A/N-2 – A multitude of "Thank you's" to two of the best fanfic writers out there who were kind enough to take time to review and make suggestions on this chapter (because, let's face it … who knows what condition Vampira is in now that she's returned). InfinityStar and Merel – you're the best!!

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**RECAP: **_**Lex Talionis**_** is a continuation of my story **_**Vengeance**_**, which ended with two unsolved murders – hangings in Central Park. Certain aspects of those murders led Goren and Eames to believe they may have been committed by someone looking for vigilante justice, possibly for something related to crimes or abuse against children. Their investigation into these murders stalled when one key witness committed suicide in a hotel bathtub and another disappeared.**

**Approximately six months later, Nicole Wallace re-enters their lives in my story **_**Indivisible**_**, when she is brought in for questioning about the suicide of her latest husband – millionaire Drew Harrington. Despite Bobby's suspicions, Nicole appears to be uninvolved in Harrington's death, although the detectives still have not ruled out the possibility. A viewing of security tapes from Harrington's apartment building revealed an unexpected visitor – the missing witness from the Central Park hangings investigation.**

**A second round of questioning with Nicole confirmed that she knew the witness, Lisa Hahn, but didn't provide answers to satisfy Bobby.**

**Goren and Eames are currently at a motel in Central Pennsylvania following an interview with Lisa's mother earlier in the day, with plans to speak with her former college roommate the next morning.**


	10. Chapter 10

A/N - Chapter 9 posted: 8/13/08  
Chapter 10 posted: 8/16/08

**Lex Talionis** – Chapter 10

_It has to be Goren._

Who else would be calling her hotel room in the middle of the night?

_If he's calling to say he's changed his mind … I'll kill him. After tossing and turning on this bed for the last three hours, my hair is sure to be all tangled and sticking straight up somewhere. And then of course, I probably _(breath in cupped hand)_ … yes, need to brush my teeth again._

Ring number three._ All right!_

"Hello."

"Eames … I remembered something."

_That's it? You remembered something? Did you remember that you left me sitting on the couch after a mind-blowing, body-numbing kiss?_ She choked down that snark in favor of, "Animal, vegetable or mineral?"

A breath, then two. "Umm … ani- … What?"

Alex swore she could hear his gears spinning and couldn't help but grin at the phone. "You call me at three in the morning to tell me you remembered something. Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral? You have to give me a hint."

"You're joking, right?"

Alex sighed. "I must be getting pretty bad at it, if you can't tell anymore." She closed her eyes and flopped back on her pillows. "What's up?"

"I need to see our notes and the information we got from that summer camp."

"Camp Lohikan? Where Lisa was attacked?" Alex sat up, immediately interested to know what Bobby stumbled upon. "I've got my laptop here, the files should be all up-to-date," she offered, knowing she could use the VPN access to get into NYPD systems. "Wha-…"

"Great … I'll be right there." He hung up before she had a chance to protest.

_Shit! Where's my hairbrush?_

xxx

Bobby had to force himself to stop admiring how cute she looked sitting Indian-style in the middle of the bed wearing sweat pants, an oversized hoodie and a sloppy ponytail. Eames was focused on getting her laptop started and linked to the VPN, and Bobby hoped she didn't notice.

"We're in," she announced. "What am I looking for?"

He pushed himself out of the chair and began slowly pacing the small room. "Find the files we got from the camp ... the employee roster."

"Anyone in particular?"

"You'll know it when you see it." He didn't miss the annoyed look she gave him, but smiled inwardly. She was going to like this. And Bobby knew the moment she spotted it.

Eames paused then looked at him in wide-eyed wonder. "Is it really him?"

Bobby sat at the edge of the bed so he could read the computer screen. _Camp Counselors. Michael B. George. Charles S. Granger. Robin A. Harrington. _"How much do you want to bet the A is for Andrew?"

"Drew Harrington," Eames sounded stunned. "Nicole's husband was a camp counselor at the same camp Tony Pirelli attended … at the same time Lisa claimed she was attacked." She shook her head at the computer screen as her disbelief changed to confusion. "How did you… ?"

"It came to me in a dream," Bobby vaguely waved a hand in the air.

"Uh huh." Eames looked skeptical and he didn't really feel the need to argue with her. "We don't know for sure it's him," she countered. "I don't remember seeing anything in his file about his name being Robin A."

"He could have had it legally changed, or gone by Drew for so long that it's on all his identifying documents." Bobby stood and walked over to the windows, pulling the curtain aside to peek outside. _Damn, it gets dark in the mountains!_

"I can backtrack him," Eames was frowning at her laptop. "But it would go faster if I do this back at the office."

"Yeah," he let the curtains fall back into place. "It can wait 'till tomorrow … or … later today," Bobby again began a slow pace of the room. Ideas were swirling and he wanted to talk them through. "What if … he was involved in the attack on Lisa?"

"Or … what if she went to him for help and he did nothing?"

Bobby nodded. Good point. There were so many 'what ifs,' but he wanted to work this out while his dream was still kicking around in his head. "Okay … let's go with that." He stopped and turned to her. "She went to him for help … told him what happened. But once the police got there, he didn't stand up for her … didn't back her story."

"Young girl like that, trusting an older man who then betrays her. That could throw her off for the rest of her life," Eames speculated quietly.

Bobby looked to the floor. Her words brought back to him Alex's own experience of betrayal by an older man, and he again felt a spark of anger and sickness that someone would hurt her that way.

"So she starts going to Drew Harrington's apartment …," Eames continued. "But, according to the doorman she went there to visit Nicole. That's what the video tape showed," her brow furrowed in question.

"His apartment building only keeps one week's worth of video at a time. Who knows how long she'd been visiting him."

"It couldn't have been too long … the doorman remembered her visits starting about three months before Harrington's suicide. She must have only recently located him."

And then it clicked into place for him along his mental timeline of these two cases. "His wedding announcement. She would have been in New York during the time of the two Central Park hangings. That was about the time Harrington and Nicole were married."

Eames nodded, and gave him that tiny little smile that told him she was impressed with his leap. He loved that tiny little smile.

"We can double-check those dates." She placed her hands flat behind her on the bed and leaned away from the laptop. "Do we think she had something to do with Harrington's death?"

"Maybe only in so much as she drove him to suicide. The guy had a history of depression. Could have been brought on by guilt."

"But, why would she continue to see Nicole after his death?"

"Exactly."

A/N – Well, pull my toes and color me surprised! Another (short) update :-) And, if anyone notices any big, ugly problems with this plot, please let me know.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N – I envision this story having four or five more chapters, and it's my goal to FINISH it by my birthday at the end of March. (I'm hoping that actually writing down my goal and putting it 'out there' will help me achieve it :-)

**Lex Talionis** – Chapter 11

Temptation. One moment of weakness makes it that much harder to resist.

Bobby kept his eyes focused on the descending numbers of the elevator display, but that didn't stop him from being acutely aware of her standing next to him. So close. He drew a deep breath through his nose and disguised it as a sigh, just so he could smell her – all shampoo and soap and perfume. This feint wasn't anything new, but the knowledge that he could lean in and give her a morning kiss without being turned away … that was new. And tempting.

But before he had the chance to prove exactly how weak he really was, the elevator doors opened and Eames stepped forward into the lobby. This time his sigh was genuine.

Breakfast consisted of bagels, bananas and coffee-to-go from the hotel's breakfast bar, eaten in the car on their way to Jennifer Woodson's office. The drive was mostly silent and Bobby forced his thoughts away from his partner and on to the conversation he'd had with Lisa Hahn's mother first thing that morning. He wanted to borrow the religious study books he'd seen in Lisa's room, believing there was much insight to be gained from reading the notes she'd made in the margins. Mrs. Hahn was reluctant at first, but agreed when he assured her they would be returned, and that they may hold a clue to finding Lisa. He didn't mention seeing Lisa on the street outside her home. Bobby wanted to be able to see the mother's reaction to that bit of news. Surprised or wary. Her response would tell him a lot.

The plan was to meet with Jennifer Woodson to see what, if anything, they could learn about Lisa. Afterward they would swing by Mrs. Hahn's home to pick up the books and then make the drive back to New York. Last night's snow had dumped several inches on the ground, but fortunately the roads were mostly plowed and cindered. The day was bright and crystalline. Nothing should prevent them from getting to New York early enough to miss the Friday afternoon rush hour traffic.

Eames parked the SUV outside a non-descript office building – three stories of red brick with peeling paint on the window frames and unimpressive double glass doors. The office they sought was on the second floor, identified by a nameplate on the dark wood door: Jennifer Woodson, Clinical Psychologist.

Bobby opened and held the door for Eames as she preceded him into the small waiting room. On the desk where a receptionist would normally sit was a sign that read: _In Session – Please Wait_. Bobby glanced at the wall clock. 8:50. They were ten minutes early. While Eames sighed and sat in one of the green upholstered chairs, Bobby clasped his hands behind his back and leaned over the desk, trying to read anything of interest in the papers scattered there. He then wandered around the small space, looking at the pictures hanging on the walls. Finally, not finding anything to hold his attention, he lowered himself into the loveseat across from his partner and smoothed his tie.

"Bored?" Eames' mouth quirked up on one side.

He smiled and bobbed his head once. Shifting his weight on the uncomfortable seat, Bobby finally gave up and leaned against the back, crossed one leg over the other and hoped for a short wait.

Five minutes later, the door to the inner office opened. Bobby recognized Jennifer Woodson from their previous meeting in New York, conducted shortly after the Central Park murders. She was an attractive black woman with smooth, chocolate skin; high cheekbones; wide, dark eyes and full lips. Her hair was shorter than when he'd last seen her and Bobby thought this style was much more flattering to her features.

The man who walked out with her caught Bobby's eye. He had a slight build, blonde-streaked hair, a metrosexual wardrobe, and very effeminate posture and gestures. Bobby stood up and nodded a greeting to the man before turning to Jennifer Woodson.

"Thank you for meeting with us, Ms. Woodson."

"I'm not sure how much more I can tell you, but if it will help find Lisa …" she trailed off and opened the door to her office.

"Have you seen or heard from Lisa recently?" Eames lobbed the question as she walked past her. Bobby watched for Woodson's reaction. Nothing.

"Unfortunately, no. Not for over a year."

Rather than sit behind her desk, Woodson sat in a wing chair, tucked one leg beneath her, and gestured toward the couch across from her.

"Your practice … do you specialize?" Bobby eyed Woodson while she studied Eames. "Child psychology? Marriage counseling?"

"I work mainly with couples counseling." She smiled at Eames.

"Couples." _Not marriage_.

"My clients are almost exclusively GLBT," she finally turned to face Bobby. "But you already knew that."

"Suspected," he nodded confirmation. "You have a personal interest in serving that population." Woodson raised an eyebrow and Bobby smiled. "It … it's the way you … look at and speak to my partner."

"Disappointed … or jealous?"

"Ms. Woodson," Eames interrupted their verbal maneuvering with a clipped, irritated tone. "What about Lisa? Was she one of your clients?"

"Not exactly. Although she did occasionally come to me for advice or help coping with her life."

"Lisa is gay?" Again Bobby watched for Woodson's reaction.

"Lisa is … conflicted."

"Conflicted," Bobby repeated. "How?"

"You know, Detective," Woodson leaned back into the chair and wrapped her arms across her chest. Closed body language. "Lisa may not have officially been my client, but she had every expectation of privacy when she met with me."

Bobby nodded, considered a new tack. "Let me ask this. Does her conflict have anything to do with her childhood trauma? At the summer camp?"

Woodson paused only briefly, but during that moment Bobby saw wariness creep into her eyes. "That didn't help. Lisa couldn't get past her feelings of betrayal."

"Everyone let her down," Eames murmured. "Her mom. The camp counselor."

Woodson's eyes flashed with something close to anger.

Bobby leaned forward. "Ms. Woodson, what did Lisa tell you about the camp counselor?"

She glared at him. _Definitely angry._ "Just that he was another one of them."

"Them?"

"People who didn't believe her. The whole incident and everyone involved with it left her scarred … and very vulnerable."

"She came to you for help with her vulnerability?" Eames asked.

"She came to me looking for the strength to get on with her life."

"Did she find it?"

Woodson unwound her tense limbs and stood up from her chair – a definite sign that this interview was over. "I haven't seen or heard from Lisa in over a year. She must have found something that helped her cope."

xxx

Once they were back at the car, Bobby noticed Eames's frown. "What are you thinking?"

She paused and turned to him. "I think she's still hiding something."

He silently nodded his agreement then flashed a wide grin. "She's certainly not hiding her attraction to you." Eames' frown turned into an embarrassed blush and Bobby just chuckled.

_TBC…_

Note: GLBT = Gay, Lesbian, Bi-Sexual, Transgender (just FYI)


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